


Fate

by ohthislove



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: AU where Diego works for the Commission, Breeding Kink, Dark!Diego Hargreeves, F/M, Historical References, Kidnapping, Knifeplay, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Virginity, Obsessive Behavior, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Possessive Behavior, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Smut, Stalking, mentions of blood and murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:13:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29638629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohthislove/pseuds/ohthislove
Summary: The Commission hires Diego to assassinate you, but he starts having second thoughts when he sees you for the first time.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Lila Pitts, Diego Hargreeves/Reader, Diego Hargreeves/You
Kudos: 19





	Fate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cherienymphe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherienymphe/gifts).



> This is for Cherienymphe's 5k Twilight Renaissance Writing Challenge on tumblr. Please go check out her works!

Diego sat in the stuffy armchair in the corner of the motel room. He leaned forward with his hands on his knees. The room was completely dark except for the window with the blinds rolled up. He watched dawn break over the Golden Gate Bridge as he sharpened his knives, the only sound the grating of metal on metal.

A subtle whoosh of energy outside his room made him go still. It was followed by a knock on the door.

He stood up, his knife gripped so tightly in his hand, his knuckles turned white. He cautiously approached the door with his knife raised, the hair on the back of his neck on edge and his body on high alert. He undid the chain on the lock on the door. He threw open the door, knife at the ready.

Lila grinned back at him from the other side. “Calm down, Diego. It’s only me.”

He slowly dropped his arm at his side. He turned and shuffled back to his chair, taking a seat.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Lila let herself in. “I just wanted to see how the assignment was going.”

“The targets are dead,” he replied tersely. He continued to sharpen his knife.

She stopped next to him in the chair. “Frank, John, and Clarence? All of them?”

He nodded. “Killed them before they even left Alcatraz. Dumped their bodies in the bay. No one will be able to find them.”

Her grin grew even wider. “Well done, Diego.”

He looked up at her. “Is that why you came here? To congratulate me?”

She remained unfazed. “You always were straight to the point, Diego. Fine, I digress.” She pulled out a slip of paper and held it out to him. “I have another assignment for you.”

He hesitantly took it from her like he thought she might bite him. He grasped the slip in both hands. His eyes scanned over the order to terminate someone whose name he didn’t recognize.

He looked up at Lila and asked who it was. “She’s the daughter of a duke in nineteenth century England. She’s going to catch the eye of a certain Prince William the Fourth and produce an heir with him, preventing Victoria from taking the throne.”

He was sure no other assets got this kind of information regarding assignments. He almost felt like Lila enjoyed telling him he was killing innocent people. “So you want me to take her out?”

“Precisely.”

He leaned back in his chair. “How do you want it done?”

“Does it matter? Stab her, choke her, poison her wine, for all I care.” She spoke as if she were talking about exterminating rats, not human lives. “People died all sorts of ways back then. It should be easy for someone of your caliber.”

His stoic expression didn’t waver. “You could have just sent this in a canister. You didn’t need to visit in person.”

She stepped closer to him. “Maybe I wanted an excuse to come see you.”

She perched in his lap and cupped his face in her hands, pressing kisses all over his skin. When he didn’t reciprocate, she pulled back. The first sign of disapproval cut through the glimmer in her kohl eyes. She climbed off of his lap.

“When you’re ready, return to headquarters for your wardrobe.” She set a briefcase down by the footboard of the bed. “We expect it to be handled swiftly.”

She retreated out of the room and slammed the door closed behind her with a reverberating bang. He heard another whoosh of energy, and silence filled the empty space. He fiddled with the knife in his hand, eying the briefcase suspiciously.

It had been months since Lila had recruited him to the Commission, months of slaughtering innocent people. It wasn’t the bloodshed that bothered him, or the gore. He had grown used to that long ago at the Academy, and even after when he had carried on being a vigilante. But the knowledge that the people he were killing had done nothing wrong, had committed no crimes he was aware of, weighed on him. They were only being removed in order to preserve a timeline the Commission deemed of value that ended in ruin anyway.

He could only hope that he could get through the five years of his contract. If he managed to suffer through, he could return to his siblings stuck in the sixties and hopefully finish helping them out, if he didn’t lose his mind first.

He was content to watch the sunrise over the bay. The sun emerged at the horizon, the water reflecting the sky painted in shades of orange, pink, and purple like a mirror. When it rose above the bridge, he abruptly stood up and grabbed the handle of the briefcase.

-

The estate the target resided at was massive. There was a sprawling, green garden with shrubs and topiaries and well-kempt rose bushes. The outside of the manor was all ornate, carved marble gilded in gold with tall columns. It was the kind of ostentatious wealth unknown in the modern world, old and new money alike.

The manor was bustling all hours of the day with maids and servants, and he had to be very careful to avoid them, keeping to the shadows. It took him a while, but he finally located the target’s room out of the various others.

He used the ivy climbing up the side of the manor to propel himself to the window. He perched on the ledge and squatted down, trying to remain unseen. He peeked over the edge, and when he caught a glimpse of the target, his breath caught in his throat.

You were sitting at your vanity, pulling a brush through your long hair and staring at your reflection in the mirror. He was captivated by the shape of your lips, your smooth skin, the way your eyes caught the light and reflected it into a thousand rainbow-colored fractals. His gaze fell to the gentle swell of your breasts, all the more accentuated by the corset you wore.

His eyes snapped back up to your face as a soft humming drifted to his ears. You were humming to yourself, a sweet, quiet melody like a lullaby. You had a beautiful voice, and he yearned to hear you speak.

He got what he wanted when the door to your room creaked open. The brush stilled in your hair, and you turned your head to see who the intruder was. “Mother,” you breathed.

An older woman walked over to you, and Diego crouched lower on the ledge. “What are you doing, sweetheart? The ball begins soon.”

She placed her hands on your shoulders and bent down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. You placed your hands over hers and rubbed them with your fingers, making eye contact with her in the mirror.

“Are you nervous?” she asked you, and you shyly nodded. “Don’t be,” she assured you.

“But Mother, Prince William will be there.” Your face flushed a glorious shade of pink from your nose to the tips of her ears, and Diego started to drool. You had no need for rouge when your natural blush was more than enough on its own.

“Do not worry yourself about him.” Your mother lifted one hand and combed her nimble fingers through your hair. “You are a beautiful girl. You will make a wonderful first impression.”

You beamed at her in the mirror. She kissed your forehead once more before pulling away. “That being said, you do need to get dressed. Would you like me to send a maid up to help you?”

You shook your head. “No, Mother. I can get ready on my own.”

“Alright. Please remember to make haste. We cannot be late.”

“Yes, Mother!” you called in a singsong voice as she left the room. You went back to raking the brush through your hair.

Diego hooked his fingers under the window. He could easily open it enough so he could slip inside unnoticed. He visualized himself creeping across the room, sneaking up behind you, and slitting your throat before you could make so much as a squeak. He imagined the brush falling from your hand and clattering to the floor as you slumped over, blood staining the pristine floor. He was sure your blood would be a pretty color, like raspberry syrup. He could stage it as a suicide: the young, pretty debutante too overcome with the stress of aristocratic life to carry on any longer.

A dreamy sigh left your parted lips, breaking him out of his daydream. You stood up and walked over to the armoire even taller than him. You pulled it open, beginning to get dressed.

He couldn’t kill you, not yet. You were so young and beautiful and full of life. Surely, you deserved a few more hours to enjoy it.

He watched as you dressed, his eyes glued to your curves. At the ball, then. He would let you live until the ball. Then, he would do it. It was decided.

-

You wore a pure white dress with an empire waist and satin gloves that stopped at your elbow. Your hair was pulled back into intricate twists and curls, and a diamond necklace rested against your collarbone. He thought you looked beautiful in white; it was the perfect color for a girl as innocent and naive as you.

He followed you to the ball. It was easy to blend in with the ballroom full of people, especially in the ridiculous time period-appropriate clothes the Commission had made him wear. The stiff breeches restricted his movement, but he didn’t predict you would put up much of a fight when the time came.

He lingered near the edge of the dance floor in the middle of the room. You were dancing with one of the eligible bachelors at tonight’s ball, a gleeful expression on your face. You looked so carefree, it made his stomach flutter, but at the same time, his heart wrench in his chest when he thought about what he had to do later tonight.

The song came to an end, and the couples parted, a spatter of polite applause filling the room. Diego spotted Prince William across from him, his eyes glued to you. Before he could close in on you, Diego swept in.

“My lady,” he bowed at the waist and held his hand out to you, “may I have this dance?”

He glanced up at you to see your whole face flush a lovely shade of bright red. It was even more intoxicating up close.

You placed your petite, delicate hand in his. “You may,” you stammered, your voice small.

He stood up straight and smiled at you. He pulled you close to him and fell in step with the other couples around you. It was easy enough to follow their movements, and he spun you around the floor with ease, holding you as if you were fragile. Finally, all those dance lessons his dad had made him take at the Academy were paying off.

“Please, forgive me, sir, but what is your name?” Your eyes shone brighter than the gems encircling your throat. “I have not seen you around here before.”

“Diego Hargreeves. I am from a country far away.” Well, he technically wasn’t lying. He hoped you would be charmed by his air of mystery rather than repulsed by it.

“What has brought you here tonight, Sir Hargreeves?” you asked, your eyes wide and curious.

“My father wants me to find a bride to bring back home with me.”

You perked up. “Well, there are many splendid ladies here who would be more than happy to be your wife.”

He smirked down at you. “I believe I have just found the perfect one.”

Your lips formed a small ‘o’ shape, and your entire complexion was consumed with that blush again. He would never get used to that.

The song ended, and the couples slowed to a stop. Diego unwillingly stepped away from you, silently mourning the loss of contact, and clapped along with the rest of the crowd. Behind you, he could see the miffed expression on Prince William’s face that he had intervened. It made his chest swell with pride.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, “It is quite loud in here. Is there somewhere quiet we could go to talk privately?”

You nodded, your eyes sparkling with a glimmer of hope. “We could go for a stroll through the gardens.”

He held up his arm for you to take. “Lead the way.”

You looped your arm through his and led him away from the dance floor. As you weaved your way through the crowd, he snatched a flute of champagne off of a platter a butler was carrying. You were so distracted with leading him outside that you didn't notice him slip the pill into it, quickly dissolving in the bubbly liquid.

A gust of fresh air hit you both as you stepped outside. The night was quiet, the silence only punctuated by the croaking of the cicadas in the bushes. Violets sprouting from the ground seemed to unfold their petals and bathe in the light of the moon. Tall hedges on either side of you enclosed you both; if you tried to run away from him, you wouldn’t get far.

“You must be parched from all that dancing.” He held out the flute of champagne to you.

“Oh, thank you.” You took it from him gladly and held the stem daintily between your gloved fingers. “You are quite the gentleman, Sir Hargreeves.”

You tipped your head back as you sipped from the flute. He watched you drain the golden liquid, his stomach doing flips.

You swallowed and lifted the glass from your lips. There was a flash of your pink tongue as you gathered the remaining droplets from your lips. His eyes followed the movement, and he swallowed hard.

“Do you believe in fate, Sir Hargreeves?” He wished you would stop calling him that. It made him feel like his dad.

“What makes you ask that?” He kept pace at your side as you walked through the winding garden.

“This may sound absurd, but I believe it was fate that brought us together tonight.” You stopped in your tracks and gazed up at him, stars in your eyes. “We were meant to meet one another.”

He stared back at you. “Yes, I believe so.” Although he wouldn’t blame it on fate.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you leaned into him. Then, you froze, your brows furrowing. Your hand lifted and pressed to your hot forehead.

He faked a concerned expression. “What’s wrong, my lady?”

“I feel faint all of a sudden.” Your lashes fluttered, and pink blotches appeared on your neck. “Forgive me, Sir Hargreeves. I must lie down.”

You started to pull away, but his grip on your arm tightened. He turned you to face him and cupped your face in his hands, leaning in. “Look at me, my lady,” he whispered, his breath fanning your face.

Your face contorted into a confused expression, and your bosom heaved as your breathing grew labored. Your hands covered his, trying to pry his fingers off of you. “What are you…” you trailed off, your eyes rolling back into your head.

You went limp, a cold sweat beading on your forehead. He scooped you up easily in his arms; you weighed nothing more than a feather to him. He carried you away, your head lolling to the side.

-

“Update on the assignment.”

Diego sat across from the Handler at her desk, her face emotionless. Lila leaned against the wall behind her, her arms crossed and a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

“The target’s been removed.” His voice was just as emotionless.

The Handler tilted her head. “How did you get rid of the body?”

He kept his eyes on the gold fish in a glass bowl swimming circles on the desk. “Buried her in the garden.”

The corners of her scarlet-painted lips curled into the hint of a smirk. “Excellent work, Diego. You’re truly proving yourself to be a valuable asset.” She looked up at Lila over her shoulder. “You picked a good one, Lila.”

Lila’s lips spread into a grin. “Thanks, Mom.”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “If you don’t have another assignment for me, am I free to go?” he asked impatiently.

The Handler’s eyes narrowed at him. “You know, you’re a lot like your brother. Hopefully, you last longer than he did.” She leaned back in her chair and folded her hands over the desk. “We’ll let you know when we need you. You’re dismissed.”

He abruptly stood, the legs of his chair screeching against the floor as it was pushed back. He marched out of her office and into the hall, letting out a breath he had been holding.

“Diego.”

He spun around to see Lila standing beside him. “Lila,” he breathed.

She cocked her head, in a manner similar to her mother. They were alike in a lot of ways. “Did the last assignment go okay?”

“Yeah, it went fine.” He cleared his throat. “Why do you ask?”

Her eyes scanned over him, like she could find out what he was hiding just by staring at him long enough. “You just seem… distracted, that’s all.”

He nervously fidgeted with a loose thread on his jacket. “Well, I can one hundred percent confirm that I am nothing but focused.”

She stared at him for a moment longer, her face full of almost murderous intent. Then, her lips parted and pulled back into a coy grin, her teeth like daggers. “Good. We wouldn’t want anything getting in the way of an asset and his assignment.”

She didn’t need to tack on the _or else_ at the end. The message was clear.

“Goodbye, Lila.” He started to walk away and called over his shoulder, “Next time, send a canister.”

-

The Commission had safe houses scattered all throughout time and around the world. Diego’s personal favorite was a small, little log wood cabin submerged in the thicket of a dense wood. Twigs snapped under his boots as he walked towards it, and he ducked under branches lush with leaves. He listened to the chirp of birds as they flitted amongst the trees.

He was vaguely aware that Lila could kill him where he stood and get away with it if she wanted. His life was in her hands. But now he had one of his own.

He stepped into the cabin and saw you. You were sprawled out on the bed where he had left you, with your eyes closed and your hands bound to the wrought iron headboard behind you. You were still in your dress from the ball. He had only had time to tie you up before he had to go report the progress of his assignment.

He couldn’t bear to kill you. You were too sweet, too precious. You didn’t deserve to die so young, and especially not like that. He knew if he was smart, he would leave you alone until his contract was up so no one could catch on and come back to you a few seconds after he left like nothing happened, but he couldn’t stay away from you for that long. You were the only thing getting him through now.

Your eyelids started to flutter, and he stood at the edge of the bed. He hadn’t really thought of what to say, but he knew he would make you understand one way or another. He was doing this for you.

You woke up slowly, but when you realized where you were, your eyes shot open, wide and full of fright. He was hooked on you again.

“Sir Hargreeves?” Confusion seeped into your tone. “What’s going on?”

“My name is Diego, and I will be addressed as such,” he snapped probably harsher than he intended to.

Your chin wobbled. “Where am I?”

“2003, two hundred years in the future. For you, at least.” He rounded the edge of the bed and sat down by your legs, the mattress complaining under his weight.

“How is that possible?” You tried to sit up, your hands struggling against your restraints. “Why am I tied up?”

“Because I didn’t want you to get scared and run.” He ran his hand up your stocking-covered leg, from your ankle up to your knee. “I’m doing this for your own good.”

You shrunk away from his touch, trying to curl up in a little ball by the headboard. “I-I don’t understand.”

“I don’t expect you to.” He scooted closer to you and leaned on his hands on either side of your legs. How could he try to explain it to you? “Your number was up the first time I met you, so I removed you from the equation. This way you can’t interfere with the timeline, and the Commission will be none the wiser.”

Your face contorted the longer he spoke. He could tell he wasn’t getting through to you, but it didn’t matter. You’d have the rest of your lives together to figure it out.

He leaned closer to you. “But I get it now. I was meant to find you, to keep you safe. You said it yourself.” He smiled at you. “Fate brought us together.”

That was when the first tears started to fall. “I… I wanna go home.” Your voice shook.

“I can’t let you. I’m sorry.” He reached out and caressed your cheek. You quivered under his touch. “But this is your home now. I’m your home.”

He closed the distance between your lips. Your tears wet his face, and you whined into his mouth. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips. His hands roamed down your body, groping you through your layers of clothing. He pulled away from your lips.

“You were so trusting when we first met. So naive, it was endearing.” His breathing was heavy as he undressed you. “That’s why you need me, to protect you.”

“Stop!” you cried out, wriggling on the bed. There was nothing else you could do. You were at his mercy. “Mother!”

“Go ahead, scream.” He made his way down your body. “There’s no one around for miles.”

You were just in your pantalettes and your corset now. He pulled off the former and spread your legs wide for him. He stared at your exposed pussy, almost in a trance. He reached out and swiped his fingers through your folds. He ran them up and down the length of your slit before stopping at your little nub. He swirled circles over it, listening as your cries cut off and turned into breathy moans.

He looked up at you as he played with your clit. “Do you like that?” He continued to torture you slowly. “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

You bit your lips to keep in your moans. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your head back into your pillow, your cheeks blushing crimson. He was sure if your hands weren’t tied you would be covering your face.

He removed his fingers from your clit and pressed them against your entrance, gathering the wetness that had pooled there. “You’re soaked, so you must have liked it.” He smirked up at you deviously. “I think you’ll like this even more.”

Your eyes shot open, and you watched as he laid down on his stomach, settling himself in between your legs. “What are you–”

You didn’t have the chance to finish before he licked a stripe up the length of your cunt. You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped as he closed his lips around your clit and sucked. He pressed two of his fingers into you, and you winced at the pain. He moved them in and out of you as he matched the pace with kitten licks to your clit.

The pain subsided as you stretched around him, adjusting to his fingers. You subconsciously bucked your hips against his face, getting lost in the pleasure. He could tell you were close as your mewls raised in pitch and your walls clenched down on his fingers. He curled them inside of you, brushing against just the right spot.

“Diego!” Your back arched on the bed as you came. The sound of your moans was like music to his ears, like the voice of an angel. Your chest was flushed, heaving up and down in your corset as you came down from your high. He lapped at your clit until you whimpered from the overstimulation, then he pulled his fingers out of you, sucking off the remaining juices.

He sat back on his haunches and reached for his belt, looming over you. You came to your senses as your eyes widened with fear again. “No, sir! Please!” You thrashed wildly, kicking your legs.

He whipped out a knife, and you went still on the bed. He leaned over you and cut the laces of your corset, ripping it from your body. Your breasts bounced free, and he cupped one in his hand, squeezing it harshly as you yelped. He chuckled at your reaction and bent to press a quick kiss to your nipple, reaching down and pulling himself free from his pants.

He stroked his length and positioned himself at your entrance. You trembled underneath him. “Don’t worry. I’m going to take care of you.” He kissed your forehead before pressing into you.

You keened as he enveloped himself in your heat. He sunk in all the way and let out a low groan. You were so wet, so warm around him, so unbelievably tight. It was the closest to heaven he was sure he was ever going to get.

He pulled back only to thrust back into you sharply, jolting you on the bed. “Fuck, you feel amazing.” He caged you in with his arms on either side of you and steadied himself on his forearms. Animalistic grunts fell from his lips as he rutted into you, setting a fast pace.

Tear tracks stained your blotched cheeks, and you clamped your lips together, squeezing your eyes shut. You were just trying to get through it as this man had his way with you, to pretend you were somewhere else until it was all over.

He balanced himself on one arm as he reached up, pushing a stray strand of hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear. “Don’t be shy, little girl,” he growled huskily. “You can’t be shy when my dick is in you.”

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, pressing kisses along your throat. Your nails dug into your palms, leaving crescent-shaped marks behind, your wrists chafed red and raw from the rope digging into them.

He sped up, the obscene squelch of your pussy and the slap of skin against skin filling the room. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.” He looked up at you, his pupils blown big with lust. “Would you like that, little girl? For me to come in you? For me to fill you up with my seed?”

A pathetic mewl left your lips in response. His thrusts grew sloppy, and then he spilled into you. He froze on top of you, his face contorted in bliss. He captured your lips in a hungry kiss and pulled out of you.

He sat back on his heels, his skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. He dipped his fingers in between your folds as his come leaked out of you. He watched as your pussy clamped down around nothing.

“Look at the mess you made.” He pushed his seed back inside of you, mesmerized. “I think it’s time we take a bath.”


End file.
